


“He was constantly reminded of how startlingly different a place the world was when viewed from a point only three feet to the left.”

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Douglas Adams, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Sally still a good egg, Towel Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 11:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Continuation of the 'Funny..." verse





	“He was constantly reminded of how startlingly different a place the world was when viewed from a point only three feet to the left.”

Donovan raised her hand to knock on the door and paused. She still had time to text an excuse, a case, a date - something, when John opened the door to the flat. 

"Come on in, Sally." He accepted the offered six-pack of his favourite ale and opened the door all the way. "Have a seat. Couch is safe, promise. Can I get you a glass of wine, tonic water? He even got limes when he was at the shops earlier."

"He still does the shopping?"

"If he had his way, I'd never set foot in a Tesco again. I don't mind. Keeps him out of trouble, and he's a better shopper than I ever was, if you can believe it."

"Tonic water would be great, thank you." John nodded and carried the six-pack into the kitchen. She relaxed into the couch and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, Sherlock was standing there with a glass of ice and two paper thin slices of lime, and an unopened bottle of tonic water. She laughed as she took them from him.

"Dinner is almost ready." He sat on the coffee table in front of her and cleared his throat. "Thank you for coming, wasn't sure you would."

"To be honest," Donovan muttered as she poured the water over the ice and limes, "I nearly chickened out when John opened the door." She looked up at him and grinned. "Smells amazing - John cook?"

"No, I do." Sherlock shook his head. "When I was - away, I spent some time undercover in one of those posh French culinary schools, I was after a crew of truffle smugglers, truffles and heroin - learned a few dishes."

"Listen - about -"

"You were just doing your job back then Donovan. If I had been in your place, I would have arrested me too. Yeah, you might have taken some pleasure in doing it, but it wasn't your fault. You were just following his script. He knew all of us so well. Knew me - knew how important it was for me to beat him - he knew my weakness. It was never your fault that I jumped, Donovan."

"Can I ask you, why, then?" She shivered involuntarily as her grip tightened on the glass.

"I had him beat, up there - and he knew it, but he always was two or three steps ahead of me. He had snipers on John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. If I hadn't jumped and made them believe I was actually dead - then -"

"Does the DI - does Greg know?"

"No. And I would prefer it if he never knew. I'm going to check on dinner, the loo is down the hall when you want to wash up."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you, Donovan. I've always wanted to be sure that you knew - well, you know." He shrugged and left the room. She sat for a couple of minutes and tried to catch her breath. John walked over to the couch and sat next to her.

"Changing your perspective isn't easy, is it?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how he's always moving around a crime scene? Kinda like a dance?" Donovan nodded. "It's something to do with moving three feet to the left, your perspective changes just enough to see something from a different angle that you didn't before. When he told me he had invited you to dinner, I thought he had lost his mind."

"This is all his idea?"

"Yep. He said it was a spur of the moment decision. He never does that -"

"What, invite former arch enemies to his lair?"

"No, do things spur of the moment, he spends hours some days deciding which pair of socks to wear, and he never thought of you that way."

"How did he think of me?"

"A worthy adversary, he understood that he was encroaching on your territory, he always thought of you as a good cop, Donovan. Even back then - and you didn't have to help when you did when you knew it was me, at Bart's -"

"I only did what anyone else would do - I didn't know how you were still conscious - but you were anxious, looking for him, and I suddenly realised, though I always knew, from that first case - the cabbie?"

John chuckled. "You've always known."

"Of course, I could tell from how you two idiots were acting. But there was no evidence or witnesses, we didn't have the gun to match a ballistics report to, I didn't feel that bad, guy was bad news, but you know, had to do all the leg work. To be honest, I didn't believe you could've made a shot like that, or that you would, especially for him. I mean, what, you two had just met -"

"The day before, yeah." John had the grace to blush.

"Both of you are idiots."

John grinned at her and nodded. "Guilty as charged."

"Dinner's ready!" Sherlock called from the kitchen.

Donovan picked up her glass and bottle of water and carried them to the kitchen table, and looked up at Sherlock, then moved over three feet to the left and glanced at him again. "Right as always, Holmes." She kissed his cheek, then breezed past him to the bathroom.

"What was that about?"

"A change of perspective, I believe, love."

"Ah. I see. Hungry?"

"Starving."


End file.
